


Into My Arms

by alys609



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Hotel Sex, Kissing, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, basically loads of sex tags because why not lmao, love triangle?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:38:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alys609/pseuds/alys609
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson's life seems perfect: he's adored by thousands, has a prosperous future and a caring family, as well as the dream job alongside his best friends. It definitely seems perfect, but it's also incomplete.</p><p>Alika is just an ordinary girl, raised from a small town to the big cities, on tour with the band. She's vulnerable and headstrong, clever and silly, lovestruck and confused.</p><p>And she might just be the one.</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Louis Tomlinson or any affiliated parties, but I am the original creator of this story. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> So after using Archive for quite a few years now, I finally decided to make an account and get writing! This is my first ever fanfic, so please bear that in mind. I'd also love any feedback or tips on how to make my profile the best it can be. :) I started with a short chapter just to see how this goes.  
> I was listening to One Thing and realised that the lyric 'Into My Arms' is mentioned and it’s kinda beautiful when you think about it enough. Also happens to be the name of one of the best songs I’ve ever heard: by a man named Nick Cave.  
> Happy reading!

I am someone who is inconceivably extraordinary and completely regular. I grew up in a decrepit, tired town at the edge of the sea amongst elderly people, gloomy weather and looming Victorian buildings. I made it through high school and college, never succeeding in defining myself or making a considerable amount of friends but always being able to reflect on it as alright. Average. Ordinary. Normal.  
That was me.  
That was why I never in a million lifetimes expected to meet One Direction.  
*  
One Direction?  
The lady with the clipboard looked at me expectantly.  
“I’m working with One Direction?” She smiled down her glasses at me and started to swish off amongst the hordes of people dressed in black swarming around backstage.  
“Wait, so, I’m actually working with One Direction? The actual One Direction?” I questioned as I attempted to keep up, unsuccessfully.  
“Well, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever come into contact with the boys, but yes, you shall be working on their stage productions, merely as an assistant to the creative directors.” She smiled again as she said this, but only now did I understand that it wasn’t very sincere, more like a wolf sneering down at her prey. I gulped. This was my first real job and regardless of who I was working with, I couldn’t afford to mess this up.  
Of course I’d heard about One Direction. Who hadn’t? I’d even watched them from the beginning, evolving from a manufactured boyband born from a talent show to a group of men with a distinct image. Mostly though, I hadn’t been too bothered about the band. I missed out on the hype whilst I was busy listening to heavy metal and pretending all other music was thoughtless.  
However, I had always noticed them. Or rather, their faces.  
The first few weeks at my new job flew by. Everyday became the same meaningless routine of fetching coffee, printing sheets, sending emails and checking details. I began to forget that I was working on a project involving a famous band and things began to resume their regular, mundane pace.  
However my favourite part of each day was the few hours that I got between working and sleeping on one of the many tour buses in my solitary bunk. It reminded me that things could change, were changing and that I wasn’t so boring after all, because I was able to witness the planet from behind the stage and beyond the tour bus. That was when I first met him.  
It was twilight. The tour had arrived to Central America and we were stationed just outside of the city, in a ruthlessly beautiful desert landscape, stretching as far as the human eye could see until civilisation was just a beetle on the sandy horizon. I hadn’t made many friends at my now semi-new job so I decided to enjoy my own company and explore this temporary home. It was only until the tour buses had disappeared from sight that I realised I was lost, plus, the twilight was rapidly fading to an oppressive darkness. I arrived at a desolate parking lot. No signal.  
For some unexplainable reason, instead of attempting to make my way back, I continued down the rugged paths and sandy hills. I made my way into another clearing: only this time, it wasn’t empty. There, framed against the inky stars and the headlights of a running car, was a man. He was propped up against a small wooden fence running along the perimeter and facing out towards the valley, his back to me.  
He could be a serial killer  
I could steal his car.  
I could ask him for help.  
I decided on the last option, and coughed to get his attention after deciding that I was a fair distance away to get a head start if he had a gun. He visibly jumped.  
“Are you okay? It’s a bit late to be wondering around out here on your own.”  
“I could say the same about you,” I started weakly, “but I’m actually lost, so…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say, but approaching him instead.  
“What were you doing out here in the first place?”  
“I was just…wondering. It’s so peaceful out here, it’s like it’s so vast and you just feel tiny and irrelevant. It’s wonderful.” Damn. I was rambling, a tendency I adopted when nervous. I expected him to call me crazy, but he shrugged instead.  
“You’re right. Sometimes,” he puffed, “sometimes I just need my own space. You know?” There was something oddly familiar about his voice.  
“Yeah, I know.” I approached him, having briefly considered that he might just be a normal guy. Suddenly, I was engulfed by the headlights from head to toe, completely exposed to this stranger. I looked up to determine his thoughts and whether he would give me a ride to the city when it hit me like an enlightenment.  
Louis. It was Louis.  
I quickly glanced away, hoping my face hadn’t betrayed the intensity of my emotions.  
“Oh, I’m Louis by the way. I’m guessing you don’t come here much.” He chuckled. I cautiously looked across to him. He was a lot nearer than I expected.  
“Hah, what gave me away?”  
“The accent. Definitely the accent.” He chuckled again.  
“Yeah, well, I’m actually working on this tour production that’s in the city. It’s this small band; One Direction? Don’t know if you’ve heard of them.” I laughed back, feebly. As soon as I mentioned the band he froze.  
“Oh, so it was stupid of me to introduce myself.”  
“Actually no,” I replied, “I’m not like anyone important. And I don’t know much about you guys in the first place.” He looked taken aback and raised his eyebrows so I quickly backtracked. “I mean, I’ve heard of you and everything but I’m not a massive fan, I’ve barely even listened to your music…..and I’m just digging myself a hole here, aren’t I?”  
“Hah, it’s no problem, I get it.” A silence ensued, the tension between us hanging thick in the air. Without warning Louis started laughing, and I found myself joining in. How hysterical was it that I was with Louis Tomlinson in the middle of nowhere?  
It was then that I got a chance to properly assess him. The countless promotional photoshoots and unflattering paparazzi shots had done the guy no justice at all. The tips of his dark hair, carefully disarranged into a quiff, were illuminated by the moon that now dominated the sky. His face, that face that I had observed countless times looking stern, happy, concentrated, was different now. It was like he was unrestricted. Louis looked completely happy.  
By now he had stopped laughing and was instead looking directly into my eyes. I felt as though I too was being assessed, and I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a blush rising to my cheeks.  
It was only when I tripped on a hidden rock that I realised I had been moving towards him without thinking. I instinctively shut my eyes, opening them to find Louis’ arms encircled around me, steadying me before I could fall again. I couldn’t help but notice how his grip was firm but gentle and I sighed. Yep, that’s right, I sighed.  
After a few awkward seconds, he still hadn’t released me so I risked a glimpse up at his face. Louis’ eyes were boring down on mine, our eyes locked in some internal, unknown struggle until he softly placed his thumb and forefinger on my chin and raised my face towards his. He lowered his face to mine and dissolved my protestations with gentle, warm kisses, sucking my lower lip and tickling the roof of my mouth with his tongue. I could feel my hands slink up his neck and knot themselves into his hair, attempting to pull him closer, whilst he moved away from my mouth, planting more tender kisses along my neck and eliciting a breathy moan from me. His palm, radiating heat, trailed further down my body, awakening a hunger that I hadn’t felt for some time. I paused and our foreheads met, our breaths combining in the small space between us.  
“I’m sorry, I just…you…it’s just, we barely know each other. You don’t even know my name.” I finally managed.  
“So tell me.” I could practically feel him smirking at my uncomfortableness.  
“Uh, well I’m Ally.”  
“Hi Ally. Would you like a ride back to the city with me?” I drew away from him, my grin mirroring his.


	2. I Should Have Kissed You

After that fateful night, I had thought everything would change. I felt sensations that I hadn’t felt for some time: a sense of thrill that made me feel alive. Every time I saw a picture of Louis, I would stare with admiration, marvelling at his chiselled bone structure and scruffy halo of brown hair, feeling a combination of awe and pride that I was able to kiss him.  
It was only after a few weeks of the same routine that I began to realise that night was exceptional in more ways than one: it would never- could never- happen again. I was imprisoned in the same old role, never having any contact with the band and instead acting as an assistant to whoever I was assigned to. The lady with the clipboard from my very first day, whose name I had eventually discovered was Ms. Bennett, seemed to take great pleasure from the fact that I was only there to carry out her orders. 

One morning, however, I arrived to find her usually stern features rearranged with confusion as she glared at the checklist. I was waiting for some time until she finally acknowledged me.   
“Alika. You have been specially assigned to Room 301 in this venue, of which there is a map here.” She gestured to her desk. I didn’t bother asking questions, figuring that she was probably just flummoxed over something that wasn’t my concern- at least that’s what she would’ve said. Making my way to the appointed room, I noticed the uniformed stagehands evaporating, replaced by glamourous, important-looking women with coffees and headsets and huge, hulking men guarding every door. There was even one outside Room 301, which was especially peculiar since the most significant person I had worked for was the creative director. I approached the suited, brawny-looking man and asked:   
“This is Room 301, right?”  
“Yep.” An encouraging response.   
“So…I’ll just go in, okay?” I asked cautiously, peeking up at him through my lashes. This time, he didn’t even bother to reply, he simply nodded.

I opened the door and was greeted with what looked like a private dressing room. Lining one wall was an enormous mirror, circled with bright lights; the other wall housed a picture of the venue, below which was a smart black leather sofa, laden with articles of clothes.   
“Ah finally, Megan, you’re here,” called a voice from the adjoining room, “so, black tee, or white tee?” The figure of Harry Styles emerged, clasping a hanger in each hand, his lips pouting.  
“Uhmm, black, definitely black,” I giggled, finding his shocked face amusing. “Sorry, I’m Alika.” I made to shake his hand but he pulled me into an awkward embrace.   
“Hey Alika! Megan must be ill or something, this always happens.” He pouted again. I was surprised at how calmly I was handling this, although the fact that he had greeted me like I was an old friend had made it easier.   
“So definitely black then?” His question pulled me out of my thoughts.   
“Hah, yep. So is there anything else you need help with at all?”  
“Well…,” he wiggled his eyebrows and laughed, “actually no, I don’t think so. Unless you’re any good at drawing.”  
“Drawing?” I repeated, a little dubiously.   
“Yeah, well, I kind of told this girl I was good at drawing and that I’d draw a picture of her. I may have been a little drunk at the time.” He mouthed an ‘oops’ and blushed. I tried to determine if Harry was serious, after all he did seem the kind of guy to joke about- but he appeared to be genuinely asking for my help.  
“And this is all you want my help with for today’s show?”  
“Basically. Look, I know it’s cheeky but I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”  
“Wow, okay, turn off those puppy dog eyes, I’ll try my best.” I chuckled. Harry rummaged through one of his bags and produced a sketch book and pencil.   
“Heads.”  
“Wh-?” I didn’t have time to ask what he meant before his phone landed in my lap. Glancing up, I could see Harry roll his eyes.   
“Just like Louis you are. Anyway, there’s a picture of her on there for you to copy from.” Before I could react any more, Harry had whipped around the corner to return to his wardrobe area, and I was left pondering my sketch. The mention of Louis had also reminded me of our kiss- it was just one kiss, which had probably meant nothing to him, but it felt forbidden and secretive to me. Again, I felt alive. There was something about these boys that made you feel special.  
After a while, I had managed to rough out a picture of this mystery girl. My work completed, I held the picture at a distance and admired my artistry skills, the doe-eyed subject staring back at me. I had never been good at art but this was pretty much the best thing I had drawn; I just hoped Harry would think it was good enough.   
“Ughhhh.” I heard the exasperated moan of Harry from the next room.   
“What’s wrong?”  
“I can’t find any shoes to wear.” He whined.   
“Well I’ve finished the portrait if you want to come and see it.” I replied. Harry emerged from the room, his brown curls flouncing up as his sat down. I awaited his appraisal nervously.   
“Wow…,” he exhaled, “this is good. Like really good. You’re definitely in the wrong business Alika.” Our gazes meet and his warm, sincere smile only deepens my blush.   
“Thank you.”   
“No, thank you.” He beams, taking a snap of the picture on his phone. It astounded me how easily he had made me feel comfortable, and how quickly he trusted me to use his phone. After fiddling around on it for some time, he returned to his wardrobe area. I could hear boxes being opened, clothes falling and Harry complaining once again. Without thinking, I got up and approached the room, to which there was no door.   
“Harry, do you nee-?” I glanced around the messy area, “Oh god. Oh god I’m so sorry!” My eyes had reached the sight of a full-frontal, fully naked Harry Styles, horror etched on his face.  
It was at this time that the entrance to the room was blocked by three guys, horror also imprinted on their faces. I suddenly realised how it looked; me, standing there, arms extended with the innocent intention of keeping my balance and Harry, mirroring my stance, the distance between us barely the length of the sofa. Suddenly the room seemed very small indeed.   
“So Harry, this is the secret backstage ritual you’ve been telling us about?” For the first time I was able to look at the figures. They looked a lot like Louis, Niall and Liam.   
“Oh bore off mate.” Harry laughed, seemingly recovered from his previous mortification and instead focussed on locating his clothes. “Actually, can you get Alika out of the room? I think she’s gone into shock.” Harry now laughed uncontrollably, an action that was echoed by the others. I allowed myself a quick glance at Louis and found him laughing along, wearing a cheerful smile that didn’t quite reach his concerned eyes.

*  
“So you genuinely didn’t mean to walk in on Harry naked?” Liam interrogated, a humorous disbelief clouding his features.   
“No!”  
“So you did mean to walk in on him?” Niall joined in, raising his eyebrow in mock disapproval.   
“No! I meant no, I did not mean to walk in on him. At All. Ever!” I exclaimed, feeling a fresh level of heat rising to my cheeks.   
“Aw, it’s okay, we know you didn’t. No one would see Harry naked by choice.” Niall snickered.   
“Louis you’ve been suspiciously quiet, what’s up?” Liam asked. It was true, Louis had perched himself on the very edge of the sofa, choosing to remain silent instead of contributing to my humiliation.   
“Oh you know me, I’m just trying to repress the scarring memory of Harry naked.” Louis chuckled. At the mention of his name, Harry bounded into the room, smirking at me and winking at the others.   
“At least Alika enjoyed the show, right? Guys, this is Alika, my stand in assistant. Megan’s ill.” The boys nodded; I noticed Louis looking straight at me and shifted uncomfortably.   
“We only came in to see that picture you put up online. The one you supposedly drew.” Liam narrowed his eyes. “But the mystery is solved.” I blushed once again, expecting myself to transform into a tomato at any given moment.   
“I should probably go now,” I mumbled, “if you need anything else let me know, otherwise good luck for the show.” The boys expressed their thanks and I quickly escaped the room, feeling the eyes of the bodyguard outside boring into my back. I couldn’t believe it. It had happened again, I had met the band. I truly hoped Megan would be ill more often, maybe that way I could determine why, when I had left, Louis had looked so disappointed.

*  
The next day, I made my way into work, arriving at a new stadium after travelling through the night. During my time alone, I had decided not to get my hopes up like last time, and to expect a return to routine. So that’s why, when I was once again directed to a door flanked with security guards, I was extremely surprised.   
“Hey again Alika.” Harry greeted me.   
“How come you knew it would be me today?” I asked.   
“Well Megan phoned me last night after the show. The thing is she’s flying back home today. She’s pregnant, so she’s quitting her job.” Harry looked genuinely disheartened.   
“Oh no! I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll be able to find a good permanent replacement for her though.” He looked at me as if I was stupid, which, it would appear, I was.   
“You’re my replacement, dummy.” My only reply was the shocked expression on my face, making Harry laugh- when wasn’t this guy laughing or having fun?  
Just then, there was an abrupt rap at the door. Niall entered, looking considerably flustered.   
“Harry, we’ve got to go. Your family has arrived.”   
“Oh okay…sorry Alika, I’ve got to go but could you get out my outfit for me?”  
“Yeah, sure.” I answer brightly. It had dawned on me that I wouldn’t have to report back to Ms. Bennett every day, or fetch coffees and act a messenger for people anymore. Instead, I’d be personally helping Harry Styles with his pre-show preparations. Which was pretty overwhelming.  
*  
Harry and Niall had been gone for some time now, so I set to work and pieced together an outfit for Harry, with some extra shirts as I suspected he would probably run off mid-concert to change. Exiting his wardrobe area after some extensive searching, I flung myself down on the sofa and shut my eyes. The sound of rustling in the corner of the room alerted me and I sprang up from my seat to discover Louis, hiding behind an expensive-looking floral arrangement.   
“Oh thank god, it’s only you.” I clutched at my pounding chest.   
“Only me? I’m just kidding, sorry. I didn’t think to knock. Where’s Harry?” He genuinely looked apologetic but wore a smirk upon his face; a distinct change from his remote, concerned aura yesterday.   
“He went off with Niall to see his family.” I replied.   
“Oh.” The smirk vanished and for some time a silence stretched out between us, the awkwardness forcing me to my feet.   
“Look, I should probably go remind him of the time.” I said, wanting to escape the tension between us. I barely even knew Louis but it seemed we weren’t fully compatible, something that made me feel…disappointed? Upset? Relieved? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.   
“No, wait,” Louis grasped my wrist, “look, I don’t know how to say this so I’ll just go ahead and embarrass myself. I tried finding you, after that night. I asked everyone and they said they didn’t know anyone called Ally. Probably because you’re actually Alika. Actually, why did you call yourself Ally?” His piercing eyes looked straight into mine, rendering me speechless. The truth was, even I wasn’t sure why I had called myself Ally. It was the nickname my mother had given me, a name that only she had been allowed to use, but that night it had just felt right that I was Ally and not Alika.  
“Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter,” he breathed, still holding my wrist to his body, “I just thought you should know that I tried.” He edged closer, his gaze falling to my lips and I surprised myself by yanking my wrist free from his hold.   
“Listen, I’m just trying to do my job here. You can’t mess around with my feelings.” I replied curtly, feeling my bitterness surface.   
“What?” Sadness flickered across his features, flooding me with guilt.   
“I’m sorry, I’m just confused,” I sighed, “I don’t know why you want me to know this. I mean, I barely know you.”  
“I’m not sure why I want you to know, if I’m entirely honest.” He responded earnestly, glancing up at the clock that was mounted on the wall. Louis took a deep, shaky breath. “But…I do want to get to know you, so…ring me?” He reached into his pocket and drew out a wrinkled scrap of paper, on which his number was scrawled. Offering it to me, I could see the insecurity in his eyes.   
“Sure,” I replied, “although do you give your number to all the girls?” I eyed his pocket with mock criticism.   
“Only the special ones.” He winked and smiled, the tension between us instantly eradicated. I couldn’t help but smile back.   
“Anyway, I should definitely go get Harry now. But thanks for this.” I held up the piece of paper.   
“Oh, that’s alright. It’s only the beginning.” With that, Louis Tomlinson strolled out the room. But he remained in my thoughts for quite a while after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just made a twitter account so please check it out- @alicelikeslouis :D  
> Hope you enjoy the new chapter and thank you for reading!


	3. Save You Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to update weekly but I just can't stop writing! Happy reading. X

I was reluctant to message Louis. Although he had given me his number, I wanted to be certain that I wouldn’t be annoying him if I actually followed through. So I kept the crumpled paper in my jeans pocket, guarding it carefully as it weighed me down with more thoughts. My obligation to Harry and taking my job seriously would have to be my priority now.  
When I had been working with Harry for a few weeks I finally plucked up the courage to ask him about Louis. I had carefully orchestrated the moment, planning it down to the last word so as to not look too interested. We sat side-by-side on a sofa in one of his dressing rooms, waiting for his call to go onstage.   
“So what’s Louis like?” I inquired as innocently as possible, realising too late that my feigned disinterest had failed.   
“I thought there was something up with you and him!” He turned to face me excitedly, his hands flapping wildly. “You always ask about the others but never about Louis! I bet you’re that mystery girl he goes on about.” He winked.   
“What mystery girl?”  
“Okay, so a few months ago Louis met this random stranger and he said he kissed her but that’s all that happened. He wouldn’t stop asking after her and talking about her, but he wouldn’t tell me or the other two what her name was. He was just so weird about it, you know? And then you turn up, and suddenly he stops talking about her. And don’t think I haven’t noticed your little looks, either!” He finished triumphantly. I laughed, a little uneasy, and tried to think of a convincing cover story, but nothing came to mind.   
“It…might have been me…unless there was another girl.” I said, looking anywhere but at Harry.   
“Aha! I think I might give up all this music stuff and become a detective,” he said wiggling his eyebrows, “but seriously, did you two not follow up on anything?”  
“Nope. I mean, he gave me his number but I wasn’t sure if he actually wanted me to message him.”  
“Women!” Harry exclaimed with mock sadness, shaking his head and tutting. I giggled, something which seemed to happen so easily around him.   
“So what should I do?”  
“You should come see the show tonight. As a special guest. Dress up and everything. I’m sure he’ll react then, and then you’ll know if he likes you or not.” I considered Harry’s preposition in my mind. It seemed reasonable.   
“Okay.” I beamed. Harry was already my best friend and confidante- and I hadn’t even fully realised it yet.  
*  
I was surrounded by hordes of screaming teenagers, their shrieks of ‘I love you Harry!’ and ‘marry me Niall!’ abusing my ears throughout the show. I had followed through on Harry’s advice, going to my tour bus as soon as I was allowed and picking out my best outfit: a slim, gold belted black dress with a pair of black Mary-Janes. I scraped my hair back and did the best I could with my makeup, applying a dash of mascara and a dab of lip-gloss. I wanted to look sensational. I wanted to see if Louis would notice.  
As soon as the boys had burst onto the stage, he had noticed me, I could tell. Our eyes kept making contact and Louis soon began directing some lyrics towards me, a wide grin covering his face. When Louis, Harry, Niall and Liam regrouped after dispersing to interact with the crowd, I could see Louis whispering to them. Suddenly, all of them looked at me and I became glad it was dark as a furious blush sprawled across my cheeks.   
“This one is for someone who has become our good friend over the past few weeks.” Liam announced. I could feel a smile cracking my face in two as Ready To Run blared out across the stadium and the screeches resumed.  
*  
I tried to find the boys after the show, but the flurry of activity backstage meant that I was unable to find them, even in their dressing rooms. Instead, I decided to retrieve the infamous piece of paper that Louis had gifted me some time ago and texted: ‘Well done on the show! Thanks for a great night. Alika x’  
As soon as I had some time to myself away from the cacophony of noise in the stadium, my overwhelming exhaustion made itself apparent. I decided to head back to my designated tour bus, which was parked nearby in an allocated parking area. Hurriedly exiting the stadium, I welcomed the embrace of the cool night air that engulfed me and the sweet silence of the city; only broken by the distant rumble of engines. The main roads and the stadium sweeping off to my right, I grew aware that the only light guiding my way was that of the moon hanging in the sky. The coolness and quietness that I had craved just minutes ago was now uncomfortable; inky shadows slinked their way around me and the air nipped at my exposed flesh. A lone car made its way down the solitary street, slowly drawing nearer and nearer until it hummed alongside me. I looked away as the window wound down.   
“Are you lost?” A voice sneered. Using my hair as a shroud, I glimpsed at the threatening figure. The weak moonlight cast dark shadows over his snarling features, with only his ashen-blonde hair and mask of malice visible to me. I chose to ignore him and the car sped off down the street; relief rushed into my veins.  
It was only when I reached the bottom of the street that I discovered the man had only abandoned his vehicle around the corner and had instead lurked in the shadows waiting for me. I sped up, looking anywhere but at him, but it was no good, too late, because he was making his way towards me the way a leopard would to his prey, and the sense of dread that had been building up within me became suffocating. I wanted to run but my legs wouldn’t correspond. I wanted to scream but only a hoarse whisper came out. I flattened myself against one of the buildings that lined the street and shut my eyes as he roughly grabbed me and flung me to the ground.   
“Dirty whore. All women are.” He pulled my hair, forcing my face up to his and pushed his lips against mine, making me yelp in terror, allowing him to press his tongue into my mouth. I felt tears ooze down my face and he disengaged from the kiss, my head dropping back down to the floor. I thought of the last time I had been kissed. Louis. It wasn’t even comparable.  
It was at the thought of Louis that my survival instinct kicked in: fight or flight. I definitely couldn’t fight, but I could try to escape. The guy plucked me up off the floor as if I was nothing to him, his primitive aura constraining me just as well as his physical brutality.   
“Now stand.” He commanded. I followed his instructions and he glanced down, seemingly preoccupied with undoing his jeans. This was my chance. I rapidly flicked my leg up and kicked him between the legs, whirled around and fled. I ran as fast I could, ignoring the pounding in my chest and the tears crawling down my face and the smell of blood that I was pretty sure was coming from my head. I ran and didn’t look back.  
After what seemed like an eternity of running, I found a payphone and stopped. My phone had died just after I had texted Louis, but I had some change on me and the crumpled note in my pocket- that was all I needed. I huddled in the safety of the Perspex box and dialled his number, shutting my eyes in desperation. What if the guy caught up with me?  
Louis picked up on the third ring.   
“Hello?” He sounded sleepy. What was the time?  
“Louis-” I began, before tears choked me.   
“Alika?” He seemed more awake now. “Alika, what’s wrong? Where are you?”  
“Cedar and Eighth.” I manage, barely raising my voice above a whisper. The line disconnects and I fall to the ground, rocking slowly back and forth.  
I don’t know how long I’ve been waiting until I hear an engine running directly outside the payphone box and the steps of a person approaching, drawing closer. Suddenly, the smell of Louis- warmth and cinnamon and comfort- fills my lungs and two arms clad in a black jumper encircle me, scooping me up. I nestle my head into his chest, the sobs shuddering through my entire body. I instantly feel safer.   
“Shhh, shhh, you’re okay now Ally.” He reassures me as I feel my lids shut.


	4. Let Me Be The One

Scattered lights danced behind my eyes. Cold, unyielding leather lay at my touch. A distant throbbing, the epicentre of which seemed to be my head, echoed in my mind. But the main thing that I could sense upon my return to consciousness was the smell. It was everywhere. It was simultaneously warm and rich, sharp and defined; it was at once mint and cinnamon, oppressive and light. It was Louis. It meant safety.  
I could feel myself instinctively unfurl from the foetal position that I had adopted and shift closer to him, seeking his heat, his attention, his protection. This movement was carefully observed by the man in question. Louis was staring down at me with such intensity, such concern and distress imprinted on his every feature that I had to tear my eyes away from him. Without warning the throbbing in my head escalated and became excruciating- where was this coming from? What had happened to me? I tentatively raised my hand and it came away bloodied. Oh. Oh.

“Ally, you’re going to be fine.” A voice in the void called out. “Ally? Ally? Talk to me.” The voice seemed to twist in desperation and I tried to follow it, to answer it, to ask it why, what, how. But the lights evaporated and suddenly I was swallowed up by the pitch-black.  
*  
When I finally opened my eyes again, it was still dark, and the pain in my head was still present but considerably dulled. Unlike before, there were no scattered lights and beneath my touch there seemed to be a cloud of duvet cradling me. The smell, however, had not disappeared. There was a sound too, a repetitive hum emanating from a small chair that was placed at the end of my bed, facing me. I blinked to regain my sight properly, and out of the darkness emerged a small figure, slumped and disarrayed, sleeping peacefully.   
Louis sat there in his crumpled clothes, his halo of hair squashed by the weight of his palm that propped up his head. I immediately remembered everything that had happened- I guessed that this was his hotel room, and there I was, claiming his bed whilst he was sleeping uncomfortably in a chair. I smiled wistfully. The small pool of orangey-light that filtered through the blinds from a streetlight outside allowed me to silently witness his face; his thick lashes shut together tightly, his lips pursed, nose wrinkled and breath coming out in small puffs; the lines of concern that I had seen before erased by the freedom of sleep. There was a rush of something deep within me- an affection and a desire so strong it was breath-taking. I crawled over to him, taking care to remain on the bed.   
“Louis? Louis?” I whispered and shook him gently.   
“Ally?” He murmured doubtfully, consciousness lining his face again.   
“It’s me. Come to bed Louis.” With that, he staggered out of his chair and into the bed beside me, asking no questions and demanding no answers. The mattress dipped and then he was there, next to me, kissing distance. His hand tenderly cupped my hip, his face dipped into the curve of my shoulder and I melted myself against him under the security of the covers. Soon enough, the steady ebb and flow of his breathing filled the room again and I felt myself float off to sleep. There were no pretences. There was no seduction. It was just the two of us, alone and tired, embracing one another in the dimness of this room.  
*  
Awakening from slumber for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, I was quickly able to determine that it was daylight from the dazzling brightness that filtered in through the windows. There was a Louis-shaped imprint on the covers next to me and the faint linger of his scent in the air; his discarded clothes heaped on the floor. He must be busy. Out. I’m alone. I cautiously sit up in the bed, recalling the events of last night, which already seem so distant from the comfort of this hotel room. God only knows what would’ve happened if Louis hadn’t turned up when he did, if that scrap of paper hadn’t have been in my pocket- if I hadn’t have strayed from the main road.  
“You’re crying Ally, what’s wrong?” Louis soothed, entering through the door and swiftly supporting me in his arms. I put my fingertips to my cheeks, and sure enough, there were tear-tracks slinking down my face.   
“I’m just so happy I’m safe.” I breathed, my voice feeling small as I hugged his chest. “Thank you. For everything.”  
“It’s fine.” He frowned, holding me away and assessing my face. “I checked your head out, it seems fine but it’ll definitely hurt for a while. Do you want to tell me what happened last night?”  
“Not now.”   
“Okay.” He beamed warmly and I felt myself exhale, the tension leaking from my body. Just then, the door opened once more and revealed the anxious figures of Harry, Niall and Liam. “Oh yeah, the boys were worried so I said they could see you-”   
“But we’ll leave if you don’t feel like it Alika.” Harry finished softly from the doorway.   
“No, it’s fine. Hey.” I smiled weakly at them as they slowly approached the bed. I became glad that I was still in my clothes from the night before as all four boys stared down at me; I shifted awkwardly, hating the unnecessary attention.   
“Pretty nasty bump you’ve got there Alika.” Harry commented, Niall and Liam exchanging glances and nodding affirmatively. “In fact…it looks like you’ve got a third eye coming out the back of your head.” He continued with mock concern. I grinned and blushed furiously, rolling my eyes at him. I realised that I didn’t know how to answer so he continued. “No, but seriously I’m so sorry had to go through that. I’m guessing someone attacked you last night.” All humour had deserted his eyes, the previous lightness there replaced by something much different- sadness. How had Harry been able to know exactly what had happened without needing to ask me about it? It was like he knew me better than I knew myself.   
“So,” Niall began, jerking me out of my deep thoughts and preventing me from answering Harry, “what did you think of the show then?”   
“Niall!” A chorus of groans started.   
“She doesn’t wanna talk about that stuff you doughnut.” Harry laughed at him, never removing his eyesight from me. A pause ensued. “But yeah, since he asked first, what did you think?” He pressed like a little boy at Christmas wanting to find out the big surprise.   
“Uh, yeah, it was good.”  
“Just good?!” I rolled my eyes again.   
“Okay, okay, it was great. Seriously, it was amazing. I don’t know how you guys can do that every other night, how you can put so much energy into one performance. I loved it.” And it was true. Seeing the boys leap and run across the wide stage, witnessing them softly serenading the audience one moment and whipping them into a frenzy the next, it was like they had harnessed the crowd’s attention and channelled it into themselves. “Just don’t go getting too full of yourselves, okay?” I warned, wagging my finger at them. We all burst into laughter.  
Once our jokes and jibes had dissipated, Louis reluctantly announced their engagements for the day- promo, practise, practise and promo.   
“Alika you should probably take a shower, you stink.” Offered Harry helpfully.   
“Well thank you Harry! But I don’t have anything to change into.” I frowned.   
“Just call up room service and leave your clothes on the bed, they’ll wash them for you.” Louis chuckled.   
“But what do I wear in the meantime?” I practically squeaked.   
“I’m sure Louis has something in your size, you both look pretty small.” Liam smirked playfully, the subject of his remark glaring at him.   
“You can borrow something if you want, Alika.” He stated firmly. With that, the boys exited the room and left me to mull over my thoughts.  
Why had Louis just called me Alika in front of the others? Was my nickname our secret thing now or had he already forgotten? Was he acting possessive or was I overthinking? And how had Harry been able to read me so easily before when there were so many things I had left unspoken?  
I sighed.  
Most importantly, since when did I start questioning my attachment to boys?  
*  
Mercifully, I had been able to locate a pure white robe in the bathroom and had swapped my dirty, crumpled outfit for it instead of Louis’ clothes. I was just lying on the bed, my damp hair splayed out around me, when my seclusion was interrupted by the man himself.   
“Hey, so I’m finished for today.” He bashfully smiled. “Did you want to talk yet, or…?” I exhaled, figuring that I owed him the full story after what he had done for me.   
“Harry was right,” I began as he sat down next to me, “I was attacked. I was on my way home last night and there was this guy…he looked like he was leaving so I was fine.” I frown. “But then he reappeared at the end of the road and, well anyway, you can probably guess. I kicked him and ran before he could get to me. I ran and ran…I didn’t know where I was going, just away…and then I remembered, the paper. And I rang you. My phone was dead so I found a payphone. Then you turned up.” I finished, my eyes clamped shut and my breathing unsteady.   
“Hey, it’s okay.” Louis soothed, and I opened my eyes to find him a lot closer than I had anticipated. Somehow, in the harsh daylight, the proximity seemed too intimate, too revealing, so I discreetly scooted back. He cleared his throat, as if about to announce something important.   
“So, I looked up your name.” He glimpsed over at me, as if seeking my approval.   
“What does it mean?”  
“You don’t know?” I shook my head no. He smiled, with such compassion and warmth that it suddenly hit me how magnificent his smile was. “It means ‘most beautiful’”. At that point, if it had been Harry I would have been compelled to scoff and joke- but the intensity of Louis’ stare could only extract a glow of happiness from me. I was captivated; almost scared by how strongly I could feel for him. It certainly explained why he had decided to call me Alika and not Ally.   
“What does yours mean?”  
“Mine? It means renowned warrior. A little predictable if you ask me.” Just like that, all the concentration of passion drained away and we were our normal, joking selves again. “So where are your family Alika?”  
“That’s a little random. And that’s way too many questions for one conversation now.” I sulked. Catching sight of Louis’ pout, I relented. “Fine, fine. I have a family-”  
“Good start.” He nodded seriously.   
“Don’t interrupt,” I scolded, “when I’m about to pour my heart out to you.” There, that silenced him, I smirked inwardly. “Anyway. I have a family. Mum and Dad still live in England; they’re fine. England is fine, you know? I just…just wanted more. That’s how I ended up here- I moved to America last year and I was looking for a job and you guys were in town. That’s it. Nothing interesting.”   
“Then why are you practically squirming?” Louis challenged, the ghost of a grin dancing on his lips.   
“I just don’t like telling people about my family!” I laughed. “Because then people judge me and then I feel guilty for leaving them and then I doubt myself. I don’t like that.” I shrugged.   
“Hey, I’m not really in a position to judge.” Louis grinned back at me. “But seeing you all uncomfortable is hilarious I might just add.”  
I shot him a glare. This boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the inconsistent updates and short-ish chapter! Small family crisis being sorted out right now. I might start updating weekly from now on just because it gives me more time to edit etc.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading and any feedback is, as always, appreciated!


	5. Baby, We're Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So updates every Saturday from now on! I've also managed to write a few chapters ahead (expect smut next week!) and I've got some rough ideas for a Halloween based fic. :)  
> Thank you for reading and, as always, I love feedback! <3

“I have to leave.” Louis admitted, his shoulders slouching with defeat. He peeked across to determine my reaction, turning those emerald eyes on me and rendering me completely speechless. I felt like an open book and he was reading every single page.   
And I might have imagined it- I certainly hoped it- but he almost looked reluctant to go. I, too, was unashamedly unenthusiastic. We were sprawled out on the hotel bed; he with his legs crossed, me with my back propped up against the headboard, both of us gazing at one another carefully. The Louis I had just spoken to for the past hour was like a different person- our fierce intensity and electricity had transformed into something vivid, fluid, comfortable. It was easy to see how he was the glue of the band: his effortless humour and lack of pretentions made it so uncomplicated to be in his company; made you feel safe around him.

The danger of it all was that I could feel myself falling for him. It felt so palpable, so visible and physical that I was surprised I hadn’t already melted in front of him. But it wasn’t just this Louis I was falling for, either. The other Louis, the one who made my heart burn with the pure concentration of our chemistry- I’d fallen for him too. All of him.

But Louis had to leave and apparently I was overthinking, again.

*

Shortly after he had left I also decided to vacate the room. It wasn’t that I felt like I’d outstayed my welcome- he was far too nice for that- I just couldn’t bear the thought of spending another night locked in limbo: lying beside him, but watching from such a distance.

I found my way to my assigned tour bus, admiring the autumnal scenery of the anonymous town we were in. Turning the corner and approaching the door of the enormous bus, I discovered the familiar figure of Mr. Styles resting against its wall, his flamboyant coat flapping in the cool breeze and his thick brown curls whipping around furiously. He scuffed his feet against the ground, seemingly absentminded, fiddling with the guitar that hung from his neck on a thick woven band.   
“Hey there stranger.” I called out, making Harry abruptly straighten up, momentarily caught off-guard.   
“About time.” He answered after a few seconds with a toothy grin. It was almost as if he was constantly putting on a happy, cheeky, carefree façade for everyone, even for those closest to him. I shoved my thoughts to the back of my head: _stop overthinking Alika._  
“Oh?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “I didn’t realise I was being waited upon. What’s up?” I feigned casualness, noting the peculiar look on his face as he tightly gripped the guitar.   
“I have something to show you.” He beamed. I widened my eyes and put my hands to my heart in mock-alarm.   
“I’m flattered but I’ve already seen it once thank you very much.”  
“Come on.” He laughed, rolling his eyes at my joke and scooping up my hand. He marched us into the tour bus.

“Home sweet home.” I sighed contently, setting my bag down on the small compartment that served as my bed and my only personal area. It was nestled amongst eight identical bunks, all compactly constructed into the side of the vehicle. I glanced over at Harry, who hadn’t said anything. “It’s not much, I know. But it’s home.” I babbled, feeling my cheeks burning with embarrassment.   
“But it’s a bed.”  
“Hey it’s a very comfortable bed.” I scowled at him. He faced me, pity suddenly flooding his face.   
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like-”  
“Like it’s not a hotel suite? Or an apartment? Hey, it’s fine. I mean, I guess it is essentially just a bed so you’re right. But it’s the best I’ve got.” I said, smiling tentatively.   
“It’s not that, I just feel…guilty.” He finally managed with a pained expression. What was wrong with him? This was so unlike Harry, who was normally the light-hearted and expressive one of the band.   
“It’s fine.” I frowned.   
“No, it’s not.”  
“Yes, it is.” I pressed firmly. Why were we even having this conversation? Harry remained silent, running his hand through his wild hair with a sigh of exasperation, his face still contorted with pity. That did it. “Look, I don’t know what’s up with you today, but I don’t need your pity. Really. This is what I’ve earned and it’s the best I can do. So why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?” I hadn’t intended to sound so furious, but my irritation had peaked and the words had fountained out of my mouth before I could stop them. Harry flinched.   
“That escalated quickly.” He muttered, looking like he felt guilty and hurt. The words stung me. “I didn’t want to upset you or anything.” Now _I_ felt guilty.   
“Well you did.” I huffed, looking at my feet. Harry’s expression softened and he took my hands into his, placing one finger under my chin and forcing me to look at him.   
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in the way that you’re thinking-”  
“I’m not to blame here! You-” He silenced me with a finger to my lips and stared at me earnestly.   
“I didn’t mean it in the way that you’re thinking. I just thought that…you deserve more.”  
“Oh.” I mouthed back, not fully comprehending the direction of our conversation as he shifted closer, the guitar on its band the only thing separating us.  
“I mean for a start you put up with me.” I laughed awkwardly, taking the time to divert my gaze away from his and suddenly wishing he wasn’t so damn close. Was he leaning in? _Shit._  
“So anyway, what was that thing you wanted to show me?” I tore away from his grip, breaking the tension that simmered between us. A look of confusion flitted across Harry’s features before he collected himself.   
“Oh yeah, god. Okay sit down.” I obeyed, perching myself on the edge of a bunk as he sat across from me.   
“Will anyone come in?”  
“They shouldn’t do, but I can’t guarantee they won’t.” Harry looked as though he was mentally weighing his options. He shrugged his shoulders.   
“Okay, cool.”

He plucked up the guitar that balanced from his neck and strummed lightly, his gaze now completely focussed on the instrument. He repeated the action, this time gently cradling the guitar and producing a flurry of notes, building a steady rhythm. It was captivating to watch: his hair fell around his face and his brow was furrowed with concentration. Just when I thought nothing could break the spell, Harry sang.

__I might never be your knight in shining armor  
I might never be the one you take home to mother  
And I might never be the one who brings you flowers  
But I can be the one, be the one tonight  
  
When I first saw you  
From across the room  
I could tell that you were curious, oh yeah  
Girl, I hope you’re sure  
What you're looking for  
'Cause I'm not good at making promises

As he sang, Harry continuously flicked his eyes between his guitar and me. The lyrics, which Harry seemed to sing directly to me, made me squirm with embarrassment.

“So what do you think?” Harry asked, his fingertips still dancing on the strings of the guitar.   
“It’s beautiful.” I breathed, conscious of the fact that we were still alone. What did this mean? Was he just showing me a new song or did he have an ulterior motive? I exhaled shakily. “What do you want from me Harry?”  
“What do I want from you?” He repeated with confusion.  
“Don’t take this the wrong way…but you’ve been acting really weirdly today. And then there’s the song, I mean, it’s beautiful but I don’t know why you’re singing it to me. And now, now you’re doing that thing with your eyes again!” I accused, panicked.   
“What thing? Alika?” I cringed.   
“That thing where you look like you want me.” My voice dropped to a whisper and I clamped my eyes shut.

The sound of hysterical laughter snapped them open again.

They opened to find Harry crippled with laughter, tears streaming down his reddening face.  
“I…want…you?” He managed before collapsing with laughter again.   
“Oh god.” I whined, absolutely mortified. “I’ve been imagining it, haven’t it?” I buried my face in my hands, wishing the ground could swallow me up. The laughter stopped and I looked up to see Harry had grown thoughtful.  
“If I tell you something now Alika, you’ve got to promise you wont tell anyone else.”  
“Huh?” I responded, puzzled by the abrupt change of tone.  
“Promise?”  
“Okay, okay!”  
Harry’s green eyes bored into me again with such an intensity it reminded me of Louis.   
“I couldn’t possibly like you Alika,” he said sincerely, “because I’m in love with someone else. I’m in love with Louis, Alika.”

Oh. _Oh._

*

“I wrote the song with Louis, you doughnut. And I was nervous because that song is important to me.”  
“But why me? Why would my opinion matter?” I stuttered, still astounded by Harry’s admission.   
“Oh god,” he said, rolling his eyes, “you don’t get it, do you? Because whilst I was writing this song for Louis, he was writing it for _you_.”   
“But- that’s impossible. He barely knows me, really. For all you know, it could be about you.” Harry shook his head vehemently, his curls bouncing as he did.   
“No, he’s told me Alika.” He said, a sad smile ghosting his lips. “You’re his perfect.”

I felt guilty that Harry was so miserable because of me. But mainly, I was just very, very interested in confronting Louis about his feelings.


	6. Just How Fast The Night Changes (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised an update on Saturday but my laptop kindly decided to delete all my work! So here is roughly half of the original chapter I had, the second half will be up tomorrow! Thank you for reading and (as usual) I love any feedback!

The hazy sunlight filters through the curtains, fixing me with a blazing glare and subtly illuminating the sleeping, peaceful form that lays next to me, nestled amongst the covers and sprawled out across me.  
It’s the morning after.  
What had I done?  
How could I have so carelessly jeopardised everything, everything I’d fought for and built up and made my own? What would happen now?  
43 HOURS BEFORE: SATURDAY, 1PM  
We were sat in a random, cosy café inundated with varying hues of warm brown and earthy, neutral tones, a dim candle emanating a soft glow from the wooden table between us on which it was situated. It still seemed surreal. Somehow this feeling, the one where I was still astounded and overwhelmed by Louis and the fact that he was still talking to me, completely voluntarily, never seemed to recede.  
Louis ran his hand through his dishevelled hair and reached forward for his tea.  
“What are you thinking about?” His gravelly voice interrupted my silent reverie; he sipped his tea and glanced up at me.  
“What?” I smiled faintly.  
“You’re thinking. You’re doing that thing where you bite your bottom lip, and you only do that when you’re thinking a lot.” Louis grinned knowingly as I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.  
“I was just thinking about things.” I eventually managed, making sure to avoid biting my lip.  
“Things?”  
“Yes things. I just…,” I exhaled sharply and threw my hands up, unable to express myself. “I just don’t get it.”  
“Get what?”  
“How you can sit here and talk to me and not be bored witless.” I laughed hollowly as he snorted and gulped some more tea, peering over at me as he did so.  
“You do know you’re ridiculous, right?”  
Wrong. We’d been talking for what seemed like hours, about everything from his family to the band; our favourite places and our top tour life hacks, but I was still left puzzled as to how Louis was able to maintain a conversation with me. The fact that he’s an international star- and an exceptionally attractive one at that- was certainly not helping me think clearly. At all.  
“Anyway,” he continued, “I was thinking too. About something way more important than your entirely unjustified self-loathing.”  
“Oh?” I challenged Louis, watching him squirm under my steely gaze.  
“The truth is, I’m not bored witless. When we talk, I mean.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Actually, I quite like it. I quite like us. Do you…do you think we could be something serious?”  
My head whirled. What?  
“Serious?” I blinked.  
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything!” He blushed furiously as the words tumbled from his mouth and covered his face with his hands, flooding me with a sense of pity and pride.  
“No, I mean, yeah. Yeah. We could be serious, one day.” I nodded, feigning composure when in reality my heart was pounding and my mouth was so dry it felt cracked. “Like, are you kidding? I’d say right now all we are is serious.”  
“Really?”  
“Well we’re very intense. And serious.”  
“Right so…you’re saying we’re not fun?” He trailed uneasily.  
“I guess so.” I shrugged, not wanting to hurt his feelings but feeling unusually brave for once. Where this courage had come from, I had no idea- but I wasn’t complaining.  
At my words, Louis straightened up and recovered that smirk that he wore so perfectly; the uneasiness that had been choking him just seconds ago immediately flicked off.  
“Well that’s easy then, I’ll just have to make us some fun.”  
“Okay?” Now it was my turn to feel unsure.  
“Are you free tomorrow?”  
“Yes?”  
“Okay. I’ll pick you up at ten am, bright and early.”  
“What do you-?”  
“Ten am.” He pressed firmly, mischief lighting up his features as he took another sip of tea. “It’s a surprise.”  
37 HOURS BEFORE: SATURDAY, 7PM  
I slammed the door against the flurry of activity and chaos outside, taking a few moments to breathe deeply.  
“You okay?” My eyes fluttered open to find a partially undressed Harry Styles, his long hair tightly pulled back into a bun and his stage clothes scattered around him on the floor.  
“Fine.” I beamed enthusiastically at him, genuinely pleased to see my best friend again.  
I thought that since his confession things would have grown strained between myself and Harry, but if anything, it had only strengthened our friendship. I now had someone to confide in and laugh with, someone to counsel and trust. Most importantly, I had someone who I could truly be myself around, with no ulterior motives. But that still didn’t entirely stop the guilt that I felt whenever I thought of Harry’s hidden feelings for Louis.  
A sudden blast of noise from the doorway alerted me that someone else had entered Harry’s dressing room: two people, in fact.  
“Not finished putting on your makeup yet Harold?” Niall joked, laughter crinkling his eyes and his jolly disposition immediately lifting our spirits.  
“He’s got a point actually, you need to be with Lou in five minutes Harry so hurry up.” I put on my stern, professional voice to show that I was serious.  
“Okay, okay.” Harry whined reluctantly, slinking off to his changing area and leaving me alone with Niall and Liam.  
“So, got any plans this weekend?” Liam asked me with a kind, innocent smile painted across his face. Too innocent.  
“Maybe I have.” I said playfully, narrowing my eyes with suspicion and elbowing him.  
“Okay, okay! Louis told us about your date.”  
“Date?” I repeated, frowning slightly. It hadn’t even occurred to me that tomorrow was a date, but now that I thought about it, it did sound like one. I definitely hoped it was.  
“Wait a second, you don’t think he’s serious?” Niall crossed the room to where I and Liam sat cross-legged on the floor, his permanent smile increasing by the second.  
“About tomorrow? Of course he’s serious.” I said dismissively, masking my confusion.  
“No, not just tomorrow. Should we tell her lads?”  
“Tell her what?” Harry called from the adjoining room, his question followed by a clatter and crash.  
“Tell me what?”  
“You do know Tommo is completely serious? He’s gone man. He’s so…gone.” Liam chuckled, his laugh echoed by Niall.  
“I think I saw him planning the wedding last night.” Niall snickered.  
“Oh so that’s what he was doing in his room last night!” Liam managed before finally erupting with hysterical laughter, his face turning red as he clutched at his sides desperately. 

“But seriously Alika, you should see him.” Niall had suddenly grown serious and was looking out at me earnestly. “He won’t shut up about you. The other night he got so drunk he-”  
“Shut up.” The bitter tone with which Harry had just spoken shocked me, and I could tell from their faces that Niall and Liam felt the same. Harry emerged from his changing area, a distinct expression of irritation etched on his features. I shot him a questioning look but he shook his head and mouthed ‘not now’. Figuring that he was probably just upset over the talk of Louis, I quickly organised the boys and directed them to the hair and makeup department, guilt coursing through my veins all the while.  
Only once the concert had started did I allow myself to assess what had happened today. It had been six months since that fateful, secret first kiss with Louis in the middle of nowhere. Every day since then, it had always felt like I was on the edge, on the precipice of something huge- but I was always on the edge: close enough to see and taste and smell, but not close enough to touch or hold. Always too far.  
But today had been different. It had changed things.  
Tomorrow I would be going out on a date with Louis Tomlinson. A surprise date. And whether that was an indication of something bigger than I could comprehend, or if it was just some casual fun, I was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.


	7. Just How Fast The Night Changes (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some sexual content, so if that's not your thing then look away now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took longer than expected because this is a super long update, but yeah, finally the sexual content tags on this piece are justified in this chapter as Alika gets some action! Please let me know what you think in the comments section, and if there's anything you want to see/could be improved. Plus if anyone knows how to embed italics and bold fonts into this then I'd be really grateful for instructions!  
> Also I don't normally do this but I couldn't stop listening to Hozier's cover of 'Sweet Thing' so if you get some time check it out :)  
> ALSO before I forget please check out my Halloween one-shot if you enjoy this!!

21 HOURS BEFORE: SUNDAY, 11AM

“Almost there!” Louis sang over to me from the driver’s seat, his infectious happiness resembling Niall’s.  
He’d picked me up, as promised, at ten am; knocked on the door of my tour bus and nervously waited around the corner with a huge bouquet of flowers and a blissfully pure smile spread across his features.  
This Louis was like a fresh, new person- all at once flirtatious and nervous, bold and careful- and yet deep inside he was still the same passionate person I’d known all this time. Normally, my heart was weighted with a dull ache around him but already today it wouldn’t stop fluttering, pounding, thumping, and when he absent-mindedly reached across to take my hand into his, it felt completely natural.  
Would I ever get bored of this feeling?  
I examined his hand with care: noting its firm grip and comforting warmth, tracing the intricate tattoos that adorned his wrist and threading my fingers through his.  
“We’re here!”  
At his announcement, I glanced up to determine what this big surprise was.  
A theme park. We were at a theme park.  
*  
“Oh my god Louis no.” I squeaked, trying to swallow down the fear that gripped me.  
“You’re not serious are you?” The older boy looked across at me with a playful grin, his jade eyes dancing with laughter. I didn’t respond, guessing that my terrified, frozen expression was a suitable answer. “Oh wow, you are serious!” Much to my surprise, he simply snorted and dragged me over to the queue for ‘Inferno’, which the posters assured me was ‘the biggest rollercoaster in the West’ with ‘nine loops’ and ‘nitrogen boosters’. Just my luck.  
Not wanting to disappoint Louis, who had clearly put a lot of effort into today, I stayed my ground- right up until we were sat on the coaster and the safety barriers had initiated.  
“Louis I can’t do this.” I finally shrieked, the adrenalin coursing through me, my eyes wide open and my hands desperately clenching the seat, seeking security, seeking anything as my heart rate escalated and my stomach dropped. I looked over at him, finding him smiling back at me, clearly restraining himself from laughing.  
“Yes, you can. I’m right here Alika, you’ll be fine.” Fine. Yes, I’d be fine. People went on rollercoasters all the time, right? That didn’t mean they’d died. I’d be fine. I had Louis.  
Before I could mull over my thoughts anymore, the crackle of electricity sounded and our coaster was zooming forward, the air ripping through me, snatching my screams.  
*  
“And for that, princess, you can choose what we do next.” Louis beamed down at me proudly, his arm draped around my shoulders as I still struggled to salvage my frazzled nerves. He lightly kissed me on the forehead and pulled me nearer to him, chuckling lightly- he was definitely not helping my recovery.  
“I think I need a drink.” I muttered, laughing shakily.  
Once we were safely inside one of the restaurants located onsite Louis continued praising me.  
“Seriously, I thought you were joking.” He smiled apologetically.  
“I definitely wasn’t!”  
“Then why did you go on it? For me?” His words brought a deep blush to my face and I was grateful for the sudden and convenient arrival of the waitress. Louis, however, was determined not to drop the subject and as soon as she had left he renewed our conversation. “Hey, you know what’s hot?”  
“What?” I practically choked on my food as I felt his hand faintly brush my knee under the table.  
“The way your hair is all ruffled and you’re all dazed. It’s what I imagine you look like after sex.” His voice dropped to a whisper at the last part and I instinctively snapped my hands up to my hair, my jaw completely slack at his abrupt forwardness. “Trust me,” he said, eyeing me as I attempted to tame my hair, “it’s a turn on.”  
And with that, Louis resumed his former posture and began eating again.  
What exactly had just happened? Did I just dream that up?  
“I thought this was meant to be fun. Light and fun.” I tittered, growing increasingly conscious that his fingertips were still grazing my knee.  
“Are you saying that it isn’t?” He pouted spiritedly.  
“No…well apart from the near-death rollercoaster experience…it’s been good.”  
“Just good?” He interrupted.  
“No, I mean it’s been great. It is great.” I internally cursed at myself.  
“I know how to make this day even better.” Louis smirked gleefully, fixing me with that stare that seemed to undress you. I shivered involuntarily. “Let’s ask the fans.” He swiftly pulled out his phone, tapped around on it for a minute and then passed it to me, seeking approval.  
@Louis_Tomlinson: Anyone know how to make a great day better ?!!  
Beneath his tweet, there were already thousands of replies flooding in.  
“What’s the most popular one?” He asked, craning his neck over to see the screen.  
“Larry.” I answered truthfully.  
“Yeah, not happening. What else?”  
“Sex. With them, mainly.”  
“Hmm, good recommendation, but seeing as none of them are around-” Louis raised his eyebrows expectantly at me.  
“Yeah, not happening.” I giggled, sticking my tongue out at him. “Oh this is a good one. Get drunk. Then, have sex with them.” We shared a loud laugh at the inventive suggestion, our faces scrunching up with glee, making the people around us stare.  
“Well how about it, Alika?” He asked, the remnants of his throaty laugh still echoing in my ears as we breathed deeply.  
“About what? Getting drunk?”  
“No, about having sex with them.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes about getting drunk, silly.”  
“I’ve never done it before.” A wave of embarrassment rushed over me.  
“Well now we have no choice but to get you absolutely wasted tonight!”

10 HOURS BEFORE: SUNDAY, 10PM

For the remainder of the day, me and Louis had wondered around the theme park holding hands, feeding each other food and queuing for rides- although they were admittedly more tame than ‘Inferno’. We had watched the blazing, sweltering sun dwindle away into a chilled dusk from the shelter of his car, perched on a desolate hilltop somewhere. And then we had made our way back to his hotel, our hands constantly linked and an easy conversation flowing. By eight, I had remembered just how hungry I was and he took me to a nearby diner, the kiss-me-quick kind, and we’d shared a cheap burger and fries, all the while knotting our legs together under the table as we chatted aimlessly, holding little regard for who was watching.  
It had been the perfect day.  
*  
I opened my door to find Louis stood outside, a bottle of champagne in his hands and a wry smile on his face, his hair neatly arranged and his eyes, alive with fear and anticipation, piercing into me.  
“I thought you’d forgotten.” I smiled, unable to look him in the eye and instead glancing down at my feet bashfully. I felt his fingertips hook under my chin and draw my face up to his, just like they had that first night. But this time, he quickly dropped his touch and moved past me, ignoring the spark of longing that had been briefly ignited between us.  
“How could I?” He joked, opening the bottle and making sure to avoid my stare. “Everything okay?”  
“Yeah…I, um, I’ve gotta go sort something out quick.” I lied, escaping to the adjacent bathroom, shutting the door and sinking down it, exhaling slowly. How should I do this? How do I spend another night with him, without really being with him?  
The buzz of my phone from my pocket interrupted the personal crisis.  
Hey Alika, how’s the date going? Love, H x  
I quickly responded:  
Hey H, it’s been okay. We’re just hanging out in my hotel room. X  
I tried to sound neutral and spare Harry’s feelings, figuring that my best friend was worth more than a quick fling. Or whatever it was that me and Louis had going on. My phone hummed again.  
Really? Because he just told me you’re hiding in the bathroom.  
So Louis was texting Harry? What else had he been saying?  
I’m just nervous. X  
I quickly tapped out. Harry would understand. Whilst nothing had been said between me and Louis, the fact that we were alone, in a hotel room, on a romantic date- it had certain implications.  
Why? He says today went great. I’m thinking you wont even need alcohol to get laid. X  
I shared a private chuckle and thanked my lucky stars that I had Harry. My phone whirred again before I had the chance to reply.  
Let me know how it goes later X  
What exactly did I ever do to deserve someone like Harry? Now guilt was added to the cocktail of emotions that were clouding my thoughts. Without thinking clearly, I strode across to the bathroom mirror, retouched my makeup and fluffed my hair, then marched over to the door and flung it open.  
“Wow.” Louis breathed from the other side of the room where he was sprawled out across my pure white linens, a glass of champagne in each hand. I approached and took one from him, tasting the delicate bubbles fizzling in my mouth.  
*  
After a few drinks, my mind felt just as sparkling as the champagne and my speech was slurred, my movements sloppy and slow. Louis grinned lopsidedly at me, his head propped up on his left arm, his right one laid across my stomach as I giggled.  
“Lightweight.”  
“It’s your fault Tomlinson.” I quipped, struggling with the pronunciation. “You gave me too much. Now I’m vulnerable.” More giggles escaped from my mouth as I discarded the glass. I enjoyed this feeling- the lightness, the freedom, the bravery.  
Louis didn’t respond, instead carefully placing his glass down and reaching back over to me, pulling my body flush against his atop the covers. We were side-by-side, a kiss away from each other. I think I made the first move.  
Our lips met and our eyes shut. At first, we moved softly against one another, taking the time to explore and caress, our mouths becoming molten as they nipped and pulled and pushed. Losing control, I found myself knotting my hands in Louis’ nest of hair, craving more contact as he stroked my sides, one hand dropping to the curve of my hip as the other cupped my face. We grew heated, passionate, and when his tongue swept my bottom lip, seeking access, I allowed it. As our tongues flicked against each other fervently, I rolled over on top of him and struggled desperately with his top, my top, his belt, my skirt, our clothes.  
We quickly tossed aside the clothes- and with them any inhibitions. Drawing back, I took a moment to admire the view. Louis’ thick brown hair drew a sharp contrast to the pure white linens, his lean, tanned limbs unfurled as he cupped my cheek lovingly, his lively eyes devouring me and his lips pursed, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his heavy breathing. Without thinking, I scooted nearer to him and continued to frantically kiss him, marvelling at his soft groans as I instinctively rocked my hips against his crotch.  
He immediately understand, lifting me by my hips so I straddled him until his cock, erect and glistening with pre-cum, teased at my entrance.  
“Are you sure?” He whispered between kisses, my loose hair falling down onto his chest. I didn’t answer him, only guiding his cock to my entrance and slowly lowering myself onto it, feeling him fill me and my walls expand to accommodate his length, his pre-cum and my wetness combining. Louis let out a breathy sigh and I began to rotate and pull up my hips, gasps and moans escaping my lips as flames of desire consumed me, his groans turning to grunts as he thrusted up to meet me, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He grasped at my breasts, gently massaging and flicking at my nipples, and I bent down to kiss him, the new position allowing him to enter me deeper, renewing our frenzied lust until I felt it coming- a rush, a wave of pleasure so intense it blistered me, engulfed my nerves, snatched away my breath. My trembling walls pushed him over the edge too, until I felt his hot seed flood me from deep within, loud cries of bliss tumbling from his mouth.  
We lay there like that for some time- a mass of limbs and panting and sweat, silence falling over us as we lightly stroked each other’s cheeks.  
I wanted to stay like that forever. Safe. Warm. Wanted. In love.

MONDAY, 8AM

The hazy sunlight filters through the curtains, fixing me with a blazing glare and subtly illuminating the sleeping, peaceful form that lays next to me, nestled amongst the covers and sprawled out across me.  
It’s the morning after.  
What had I done?  
How could I have so carelessly jeopardised everything, everything I’d fought for and built up and made my own? What would happen now?  
But most importantly, how was it possible to fall this hard for someone?


	8. Love You Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at this updating thing...but here's a short chapter and the final chapter of this fic will be uploaded very soon. :)  
> I already have an idea for a new fic but in the meantime if anyone has any one-shot recommendations I'd be glad to write them, idk I just love writing stuff!! Thank you for reading and please drop a comment if you have any questions/feedback.

I so wanted it to be like the stories, the ones where the two friends finally admit their feelings and then live happily ever after. But those were just stories.  
I ended up leaving Louis.  
I tidied myself up in the bathroom and collected my belongings, allowing myself one last glimpse of Louis’ serene, beautiful form as his hands still clutched at the empty sheets beside him. But even the sight of him there, defenceless, vulnerable and peaceful, the lines on his face smoothed away by slumber- even that was not enough to make me stay. Because I was terrified.   
Over the space of one night our harmless flirting had evolved into something more serious and the thought of that honestly terrified me because what we’d had- whatever that was, exactly- it had worked. Or maybe I was just overthinking again and what we’d shared the night before had been innocent fun to him and he didn’t want anything more. Whatever all of this meant, I had to leave and clear my head before he could confront me about it  
I fled to the only thing I understood- work. It was already mid-afternoon and the venue was a hive of activity as black-clothed assistants scuttled around, speaking urgently into their headsets and weaving between each other, serious, grim looks worn into their features. Doors opened and shut, walky-talkies beeped and sounded, lights flashed and shouts echoed. But even amongst the waves of commotion, I couldn’t escape the thought of Louis. What was he doing now? Had he noticed I’d gone? Was he stepping out of bed, drawing the curtains and taking a shower? Was he thinking about me too?  
Even though I was terrified, my nerves felt on fire. I felt alive and wanted- Louis’ electricity and warmth fuelled me, and as I glanced around at these nameless, faceless people I felt special, like a bright glow was emanating from me. I felt different.  
I pulled my phone from my pocket. One text. My heart pounded and butterflies filled my stomach as I opened my inbox to find a text from…Harry.  
Meet me in my room. H x  
I quickly replied that I was on my way and then began a message to Louis, not knowing quite what to say as my fingertips hesitated from typing. I started with the truth.  
I’m sorry I left- I was nervous. Can we talk?  
My phone buzzed before I could reach Harry’s door.  
I make you nervous? ;)  
I rolled my eyes and couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across my face as I entered Harry’s room, almost bumping straight into him. His broad features that were usually lined with laughter or honesty were twisted with impatience as he stood, arms crossed, analysing me with that piercing stare.  
“Oh shit, you actually did it.” He said, immediately dropping his imposing façade.

“Yep.” I answered, side-stepping him and sinking into the sofa behind him. “Look Harry, I’m sorry. I’m such a terrible friend, I mean I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me now, I knew how you felt about him. But honestly,” I exhaled and shut my eyes in shame, my voice dropping to a whisper, “I just couldn’t help it.”  
“How could you be so stupid?!” Harry’s shout snapped me into reality. Harry didn’t shout- he wasn’t the shouting type. I found myself unable to look my friend in the eyes as guilt consumed me: he was right. How could I have forgotten about Harry, my best friend? How could I have been so selfish?   
“I’m sorry.” I found myself mumbling as tears collected at my eyes.  
“You’re sorry? Oh god, no, that’s even worse.” He moaned. “Stay here okay? I’m getting the boys.”   
This is it, I thought. I’ve not only lost Harry, now I’ll lose my job and the respect of the others; I’ll lose them too. I’ll definitely lose Louis, before I even had a chance to tell him he was mine to lose. And what about the band?   
All because of one night. Yet, somehow, deep down, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.  
I felt like I was drowning, a cliché if there ever was one, but accurate all the same. It felt like Louis was just slipping out of my grasp and there was nothing I could do, no matter how much I reached and kicked and struggled.  
A beeping light coming from the corner of the room tore my attention away from the crisis. In all his fury and spontaneity, Harry must’ve thrown his phone. I wiped my tears away shakily and picked it up, intending to place it on a table so he wouldn’t lose it. Really, I shouldn’t have even looked. But I did.  
There, on the screen, were a series of texts to a group chat. One was from Liam.  
You done the dare yet Tommo??  
Two were from Louis.  
She fell for it   
Pay up lads


End file.
